


The Fire's Ransom

by enkelimagnus



Series: SH Sapphic Ficathon Prompts [5]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Falling In Love, Forbidden Love, Medieval Fantasy, Mention of Arranged Marriage, Mention of Robert & Maryse & Alec Lightwood, Mention of Valentine & Jocelyn & Jonathan Morgenstern, Mention of Witches Burnt Alive, Non-Linear Narrative, Period Typical Bigotry, Witch Curses, Witch Hunts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-22 14:14:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22050580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enkelimagnus/pseuds/enkelimagnus
Summary: I don’t spend the night.I don’t fall in love.I don’t stay for longer than two days.I don’t use my powers.I don’t get involved with authority.I don’t ever stop running.-----------------Clary's on the run from the Circle and her family. She's lived by a set of rules ever since escaping Alicante, and they have kept her alive. Her fleeing comes to a halt when she stops in Clerbois and meets Isabelle.
Relationships: Clary Fray/Isabelle Lightwood, Past Clary Fray/Original Male Character
Series: SH Sapphic Ficathon Prompts [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1574311
Comments: 13
Kudos: 48
Collections: shadowhunters sapphic ficathon





	The Fire's Ransom

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the "I broke my rules for you" prompt from week 3 of the Shadowhunters Sapphic Ficathon by @shsapphicfics on twitter
> 
> The timeline of this is non-linear, every snippet corresponds to a rule, but they aren't in chronological order.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

_ I don’t spend the night. _

_ I don’t fall in love. _

_ I don’t stay for longer than two days. _

_ I don’t use my powers. _

_ I don’t get involved with authority. _

_ I don’t ever stop running. _

**_Rule 1: I don’t spend the night._ **

She begs her to stay in the middle of the night as Clary slips away from her bed. The bed is too comfortable and too expensive, the sheets are soft and the blankets thick. Isabelle smells like violets. Her lips are swollen from kisses and her body is soft and naked. Clary’s pulling her clothing back on, like she does every night.

There’s something too vulnerable about sleeping by someone’s side, in their bed rather than the cot she pays for at the local inn. Clary’s made uneasy by the idea of waking up to Isabelle’s body next to hers. The cot she has to go back to is yet another reason why she wants to stay.

The door is locked, the candles are blown, curtains will keep anyone from looking into the room. She buckles the belt of the pants she wears, men’s pants, too big on her, stolen from a rack of drying laundry five towns over. It’s black, fortunately. She was known for a moment as the girl with the red pants. She doesn’t want to have any reputation to speak of.

“Just tonight,” Isabelle whispers. Her voice is heavy with sleep, and it won’t take long for her to drift off and not know if Clary’s there or not.

Clary isn’t used to hesitating. She isn’t used to rethinking her habits. Isabelle holds out a hand. 

Clary takes it. She gets in bed, half-dressed and ready for an escape the second Isabelle falls asleep. Isabelle curls up against her. Clary forgets to watch for when her lover falls asleep, because she’s fallen herself. 

She wakes up hours later to dark eyes looking into hers, a smile playing on Isabelle’s lips as she plays with a rogue strand of Clary’s red hair.  _ Fuck _ , she thinks. Isabelle leans in to kiss her. She’s happy. Clary decides one night doesn’t hurt.

  
  


**_Rule 2: I don’t fall in love._ **

“You’re going to leave soon.” 

Isabelle’s voice is soft and melancholic. She looks at Clary. Maxwell is healed, officially back to a normal health. He’s played with other children today, for the first time in months. Robert and Maryse Lightwood are delighted, even if they keep their suspicions towards Clary. 

It did take a little of her power at the end, but it was easy. Too easy, if she’s being honest. She cannot believe that doctors had failed before her. 

People are happy, and Isabelle almost cried when she saw her baby brother play. But it means one thing. Clary’s time in Clerbois is up. 

Clary’s going to miss Isabelle. The woman is sweet and curious and happy, she’s fierce in many ways, strong-headed. She’s beautiful. She looks at Clary like she’s a treasure. 

Clary is used to being second to everyone. In her parents’ eyes, she was second to her brother. Jonathan is cunning and hateful the way Valentine and Jocelyn Morgenstern are, the way they want everyone to be. 

In her husband’s eyes, she was second to his mistress. She didn’t blame him for not loving her, because she didn’t love him either. She would have grown to love him eventually, stopped fleeing his touch maybe, stopped being cold and passionless as he laid with her and tried to conceive a child with her. She can understand how unpleasant it must have been to lay with someone who didn’t seem to want or care, it was unpleasant for her enough. 

Isabelle is different, even to the girls Clary has seduced and laid with on the road. Isabelle looks at her like she was made by the Goddess, she worships her and ignites something in Clary that makes their nightly activities more than sex and pleasure. 

“I wish you would stay,” Isabelle whispers. “I wish you would stay and be mine forever.” 

Clary shifts, holds the dark-haired woman closer. She smells like violets still, and like sweat and sex. Clary kisses her throat. 

“I know, darling.” 

She wants to stay too. She really does. She’s grown to love this town, she’s used to the lady clothing again, and she’s used to Isabelle being by her side as she falls asleep and wakes up again. The very idea of leaving her forever makes Clary’s heart ache like it’s been stabbed. 

“I love you.”

Clary’s words resound painfully in the silence. She doesn’t want to imagine a life without Isabelle’s smile. She’s going to have to, though. And it breaks her. 

Isabelle’s kiss has the taste of love and desperation. 

**_Rule 3: I don’t stay for longer than two days._ **

Clary ties together the leather strings that keep the panier-style saddlebags against the saddle. She’s slept two nights in the little town of Clerbois, and it’s far time she goes. She doesn’t stick around. That’s part of the life she’s been forced to choose. 

Her horse is dapple grey, light on her feet, named Lion by a child she met a few towns over. She’s been Clary’s companion on the road since she stole it from the stables of Alicante, the night she left her family behind, fleeing the pitchforks and the torches hunting for her.

In the inn she stayed in, the girl she spent the night with is still sleeping. Isabelle, she calls herself. Clary has stopped feeling guilty about the girls she leaves behind when she doesn’t stay. She tells them when they meet that she’s not going to stay for long. Two days, enough time for her and Lion to get some rest, for her to get some food, and then it’s the road again. She doesn’t know where she’s going but she knows the road is safer than even quiet little towns like Clerbois.

Clary sighs softly. She puts her foot in the stirrup and hoists herself up. Lion starts walking away by herself. The horse is smart. She knows they are leaving. A drunk man stares at Clary, opens his mouth to leer at her, but still when the light of the lanterns catch on the dagger strapped to her thigh. Clary doesn’t hide her blades or her fighting skills anymore. 

She’s reached the last houses of Clerbois when someone shouts behind her. She turns around. A woman is running towards her. As she gets closer, Clary recognizes Isabelle.

“Clary!” She shouts.

She stops and waits for her to catch up. “Why are you awake?” She asks, trying not to snap. She told Isabelle that she was going to leave. She doesn’t like clingy ones, even if their bodies seem made by the Goddess and their moans are the sweetest melody Clary’s ever heard.

“You are a healer,” Isabelle says, panting. She’s disheveled, her clothes are barely on, and if someone sees her, there will be a scandal. “There are rumors,” she explains. “That’s why I came to find you. My brother’s sick. He’s not older than 10. Please. I need your help.” 

There is something so deeply earnest in her face, and Clary knows she’s not lying. Yet, she hesitates. She doesn’t stay. She doesn’t get involved with anyone, she doesn’t get attached. Isabelle’s asking for her help, but a part of Clary thinks that when she’s done healing her brother, there will be more people for her to heal, more things to do, to keep her here.

“I’ll pay you. Whatever you want,” Isabelle blurts out. “You’ll share my bed every night, if you desire. Please.” 

Clary sighs. She makes Lion turn around and goes back to the inn. She sends Isabelle home, tells her she’ll be there in the morning. She’s staying until the child is healed, and that’s all. Not a day, or hour more.

**_Rule 4: I don’t use my powers._ **

Maxwell was healing. And then he wasn’t. 

Clary stands over the child’s bed, looks at the feverish glow of his face. Something is wrong. Her potions and remedies have been strong and have been working. The infection has gone away, the flesh has healed, and he was walking again before he fell, and started burning up.

Isabelle’s eyes are watery with tears on the other side of the bed, as she watches Clary examine her little brother. She’s the only brother she has left since her older brother, Alexander, left the household a couple years ago and hasn’t come back. 

“Can you do something? You’ve been so helpful.” Isabelle asks. 

Clary wishes she knew what was going on. The fever comes from nowhere. She’s kept her hands and the hands of everyone that touches him clean, she’s purified the air of the room over and over. There is no disease around, and she’s fairly certain her potions have cleaned the sickness out of his system.

Maybe it’s something she doesn’t know. That’s very possible. She’s far from all-knowing when it comes to disease, and they surprise her sometimes. There’s also the option that another witch put a curse on the boy.

Isabelle has told her there were rumors of witches around Clerbois before, but that they disappeared. Rumors of witches, then sudden disappearance, that’s all Clary needs to think a witch hunter has been there. A dying witch would be very quick to curse the powerful and wealthy of the town that has given her away. 

“I’m going to try something,” Clary says softly. “But I need to be alone with him.” 

Isabelle hesitates. Clary gives her a soft look, a look that says ‘please trust me’. She shouldn’t be doing this. She shouldn’t be trying magic, to heal him. But that’s the issue with getting attached. She wants Isabelle to be free of grief and worry. She wants the child she’s gotten attached to to live.

Isabelle quietly leaves the room and closes the door behind her. Clary makes sure to lock it, and to close the curtains of the windows. She doesn’t know who could be watching. 

She lights candles, as many as she can find, around the bed. She’ll need it. She stands over the child and calls to her her power.

“Fire that purifies, fire that punishes, fire that warms and fire that kills, come.” 

She feels the warmth at her fingertips. She pushes the energy towards the child. She doesn’t burn him, she just uses the fire’s energy to show her the disease and burn it. It’s the only way to get rid of the curse if there is one. 

The child whines and moves in his bed, feeling the heat radiating from Clary’s hands and seeping into him. It’s not going to make his fever any better, but it’s just for a moment. Quickly enough, she finds it. 

It’s dark and cold, curled up in the child’s body and taking away his lifeforce. She takes a deep breath and ignites her fire. The dark curse resists her, tries to escape, tries to freeze her fire back as she tries to burn it. 

It takes everything she has, every once of flame she can get from the candles. When it’s dead, the candles go out, and she falls to the ground. She’s panting loudly, she’s exhausted. She rarely uses her power this way. Once upon a time, she would have burnt the house to the ground with the fire she used to cure Maxwell of his curse.

After a moment, she stands back up and goes to open the door. 

“Give him lots of water,” Clary instructs, as she steps out on legs that barely hold her up. “And then give him sunlight as much as possible.”

She walks to her bedroom as Isabelle rushes into the dark room and hugs her brother. The fever is gone and he’s perfectly safe.

**_Rule 5: I don’t get involved with the authorities_ **

“My father wants to meet the woman who is saving his son’s life,” Isabelle says.

She’s taking clothing out of her wardrobe, dresses like the ones Clary used to wear when she was still at home, still a girl with a family. Isabelle has told her this before, has told her it means Clary will have to take off the men’s clothes she wears every day, and be a presentable young lady. 

Neither of them want Isabelle’s parents to think she’s anything other than a normal lady. From the clothing Isabelle wears and the house she lives into, Clary guessed the Lightwoods were wealthy. The kind of wealthy that Clary doesn’t trust.

There’s a gathering tonight, relatives and family friends coming to see how the youngest Lightwood is healing. Maxwell is getting better every day, and that’s not really a surprise to Clary. Wealthy, yes, but not very medically-knowledgeable. She hasn’t used an ounce of her powers on the child, and she’s still making him better.

“What kind of company do I have to expect for tonight?” Clary asks. She starts stripping off the clothing she wears, pants and shirt and the discreet stills that look little like the fashionable corsets Isabelle wears. She stands naked eventually, and Isabelle blushes as she looks at her. They have slept together a great number of times, and Clary has recently taught Isabelle how to fuck her with her tongue, but she still blushes like a virgin on her wedding night when she sees her naked. 

“They come from all over,” Isabelle replies once she’s managed to stop staring at her breasts. “They’re the wealthy and educated of the region, from several towns over. Clerbois, Plumesainte, Heronval, Sombrepine…” 

Clary hums. She’s only been to Plumesainte before. She hopes the girl she seduced there is not going to be present. She remembers Aline with her almond eyes and her raven hair. She looks over at Isabelle and her dark hair and has a small smile at herself. She likes dark hair. She has always liked it.

“Your family knows many people.”

Isabelle chuckles, and helps Clary into a thin and soft undershirt. “My father’s the Magistrate of Clerbois country.” 

_ Oh no.  _ Clary stills for a moment, as Isabelle comes back with some breeches and helps her step into them. “The Magistrate,” Clary whispers. “And he is alright with a strange woman healing his son?” 

Isabelle shrugs. “He’s expressed a great desire to meet you, you know?”

Magistrates are bad, in Clary’s experience. Magistrates report back to Alicante, the Capital, where the Circle resides. They report back every sign of witchcraft that they find, and the Circle sends witch hunters after them. Magistrates are the ones that build pyres for women like Clary, and in the name of the Circle’s leader.

“I… look forward to it,” Clary replies. It’s a lie. 

**_The most important rule: I don’t ever stop running._ **

They’re here. Clary saw the horses in the stables of the inn, saw the banners adorning the windows of the houses they have taken over. The red circle over a black background, the emblem of the Circle and her family’s forces. They’re in Clerbois. And so is she. 

She’s putting on her boots, grabbing everything. Her hands are shaking. She hasn’t been this close to them since she left Alicante. She should have known they would come for her. She should have known Robert and Maryse Lightwood would talk about her. The red-haired woman who healed their son and seduced their daughter.

She doesn’t want to die. She doesn’t want to leave Isabelle behind either, but she has no choice. Isabelle will have a better life here in Clerbois with her family than she can ever have on the road with Clary, running for her life.

She’s throwing her things into a bag when the door opens. Clary grabs her dagger on reflex, and the metal almost makes Isabelle bleed. She looks put together as ever, ladylike and perfect and every once the daughter of the Magistrate. 

“What are you doing?” She asks, looking at the bag of things, Clary’s old travelling clothing. “You said you wouldn’t go.” 

“I have to,” Clary replies. “I’ve stayed here for too long.” 

Isabelle opens her mouth to reply. Her eyes are dark and betrayed and Clary hates this. 

“You were going to say goodbye to me, weren’t you? Even if I hadn’t come here and seen you,” Isabelle asks. “You would have said goodbye.” 

Clary looks away. She wouldn’t have. Had Isabelle not walked in, she would have just escaped through the window, gotten Lion and left without a trace. She couldn’t afford to go downstairs to where the Lightwoods were probably entertaining the high-ranking officers of the Circle squadron that settled in Clerbois. 

She makes sure her belt is well buckled, closes her bag, and grabs her travel cloak. 

“Do you not care about me?” 

Clary stops. She turns around and looks at Isabelle, at the look of betrayal and pain in her eyes. “I told you I loved you, Isabelle.” 

“Yet you were going to leave without a word. Like a coward. Like a scumbag,” Isabelle snaps at her. 

Clary doesn’t have much time, and she certainly doesn’t have time for this. 

“I broke my rules for you,” Clary explains, her voice tense and tired at the same time, the fear of being found out biting at her ankles and rising her pulse, pushing her to open the window and jump out. “All of them! I stayed, I fell in love, I… I broke them. And there is that one last one that I can never break. Ever. If I break it, I die. And now they’ve come for me.” 

She doesn’t want to talk about her powers, because she still hasn’t told Isabelle. She should have, somewhere in between falling in love and staying for months. But she hasn’t. She’s afraid of the hatred that she’ll see in Isabelle’s eyes, if her parents have succeeded in breeding it into her.

“Who has?”

Clary swallows. “My family.”

Isabelle frowns. “You said they lived far away.” 

“They do,” Clary replies. “But… They’ve been hunting for me since I left.” 

With luck, at least one member of her family would be there. Maybe even her husband. She doubts he has forgiven her for taking contraceptive herbs and running away when he discovered her magic.

“What did you do?” Isabelle asks, and her voice is much colder than Clary would like. 

Clary grinds her teeth and walks towards the window. Isabelle grabs her arm. Her grip is strong. Clary swallows. 

“What did you do?” Isabelle repeats. “I need to know. I need to know who I fell in love with.” 

“I set a house on fire.” It’s not a lie, but it’s not the whole truth. The house she set in fire was her father’s. 

“An arsonist?” Isabelle asks. 

Clary grips the windowsill. “No.” 

Fear gnaws at her belly. Fear that the woman she loves is going to turn against her. Fear that she’ll be the one to give her away to the Circle, that she’ll watch as they burn her. 

“A witch.”

Isabelle lets go of her like she’s been burnt. Clary turns to look at her, and she cannot read her face as she usually can. There’s so much happening in Isabelle’s eyes, a struggle between so many emotions. 

“A terrorist, degenerate and adulterer witch,” Clary adds. “This is who you fell in love with.” 

The revelation that she’s a witch, that she’s married, that she’s dangerous, they all seem to punch Isabelle in the stomach.

“I’m sorry,” Clary whispers. “I should have told you a long time ago.”

“The Circle squadron. They are after you. That’s why you’re leaving,” Isabelle adds. “Is the captain of it your family?” 

“I… My family’s the Circle,” Clary explains. “I’m Valentine Morgenstern’s daughter.” 

Isabelle has never been paler in her life. 

“Your brother…” She says finally. “He’s downstairs with my parents. Talking about the witch they found. They’re talking about you.” 

Clary nods. “They are.” It’s not a surprise that Jonathan is leading the hunt for her. They never had a good relationship. And the large burns that cover half of his face are her doing.

Isabelle seems to think for a moment before she sighs. “Lion can carry the both of us, right? Until we can find another horse for me.” 

Clary blinks at her. “You want to leave with me?” 

Isabelle nods. “I told you I loved you. I’m not gonna let you leave me behind, Clary.” 

Clary doesn’t know what to reply. She watches as Isabelle takes off her shoes and unlaces her corset slightly, enough to be able to ride correctly. She puts on sturdy boots, grabs a full-looking pouch from her bedside table. Clary watches, because she doesn’t know what else to do. She feels frozen. 

Isabelle looks around her bedroom and nods. “I’m ready.” 

Clary doesn’t try to tell her not to come. She knows Isabelle enough to know that will not change her mind. Isabelle pulls her close and kisses her deeply, making Clary’s knees weak and her heart beat faster. 

“Let’s go.” 

They escape through the window and make it to the stables. Lion’s waiting. She’s not saddled. Clary quickly takes care of that. There’s another horse in the next box, and she recognizes it instantly. Smokehunter is Jonathan’s horse. 

Not for much longer. As Clary and Isabelle ride away, leaving the black and red banners behind, Smokehunter carries Clary’s lover.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my last fic of the year, and what a way to go!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> Shoot me an ask or a DM on my tumblr @enkelimagnus, or reach me on my Twitter @enkelimagnus!  
> I have anons on and curiouscat so don't be shy!


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